31 Ways to Love
by Socially Suicidal
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for GaaSaku Month, a prompt for every day of the month. Rating will change as drabbles are posted.
1. Day 1: Holiday

_Summary:_ A collection of drabbles written for GaaSaku Month, a prompt for every day of the month.

_Day: _1

_Prompt: _Holiday

_Phrase: _"…_spending such times of celebration __with his siblings was something to which he had gradually grown accustomed, familiar even, but this was something entirely different…_"

_Genre:_ Friendship/Romance

_Length: _1,290 words

_Rating: _K

**Edit:** 1/2/13 - I really need to proof read these better...

31 Ways to Love

By: Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

It was a well-known fact in the Sabaku household, hell, a well-known fact in all of Suna and possibly the entire country of Wind, that the elder two of the renowned Sand Siblings enjoyed their fair share of partying. It wasn't to say that the two powerful shinobi shirked in any way from their respective duties in favor of over-indulging in their festivities, but the grape vine seemed to buzz with renewed ardor whenever the Kazekage's household was rumored to be planning a get-together.

So, when the invitation had arrived to Konoha by messenger hawk, hardly any of the shinobi cordially invited to the "Kazekage's" (as if everyone didn't know Gaara had probably lifted less than a finger in way of anything party related) New Year's festival and corresponding party were surprised. Tsunade, being one to party moderately herself (_ha_, Sakura had scoffed at that one), had hardly been in a position to deny Naruto's enthusiastic plea for time off from his Hokage-training duties to attend the event in Sand.

And such was the event that had found the group of Konoha shinobi - made up namely of Rock Lee, Sakura, Naruto, Shikamaru, Kakashi, Ino, Tenten, and Sai (the last three of whom just tagged along for a vacation of sorts) - standing at attention before the desk of one youthful Godiame Kazekage. They had arrived the morning of the day set to begin the three day long festival, a rather attractive commodity Suna acquired some years before, which was reinstated annually by a begrudging Kage who simply could not rationalize losing all of the profit it gained for the village just because the ruckus distracted him from his paperwork or sleep at all hours of the night.

Gaara had stood from his seat as he greeted his guests, imploring them to drop the respectful guise and treat him as their friend - a regard from which, he had expressed, the many years and missions they had all spent in correspondence with one another had justly been earned. They were all happy to do so, in their own ways, and Gaara had not failed to notice, as the group filtered out of his office on their way to wash up at the guest housing he had provided for them, as the pink haired medic who had saved the lives of both him and his brother, on separate occasions, fixed him with an odd sort of smile before departing.

He had spent many hours since then replaying the image in his head, analyzing it, noting with curiosity the way in which the tilt of her pale pink lips seemed to continue to her feather lashed eyes, causing them to crinkle subtly. Gaara had found himself having to shake it from his mind many times in order to continue his work throughout the day, and that had not changed as he sat some hours later at the long table surrounded by the group of chatting Konoha nin and his siblings.

Finishing the last bits of their meal, the visiting shinobi had begun to slowly filter onto the street where his villagers were dancing, drinking, and celebrating the coming of the New Year. Gaara didn't know for how long he had his chin nestled into his palm as he stared blankly at the hanging, festive lights, before he was once again shaken from his thoughts by a tugging of his robes near his shoulder.

"Ano… Kazekage-sama?" The small, honey eyed girl stared up at him shyly through wisps of blonde bangs, her voice barely audible above the sounds of his native music. He shifted back, leaning into his chair as he recognized the girl as one of the genin Kankuro sometimes helped train, and nodded for her to continue.

"Do you know who that lady is dancing with Kyboko-kun?" Blinking, Gaara redirected his gaze to where the girl was pointing to find Sakura dancing with a brunette genin. He couldn't have been more than twelve.

"She's a medic-nin from Leaf," he replied softly, not seeing the sour expression that crossed the now silent girl's face as he continued watching as the kunoichi in question laughed and twirled her young dance partner. And then, as if she heard them, Sakura lifted her gaze and met his. The girl beside him noticed him tense and followed his eyes to find the foreign lady who had the audacity to dance with Kyboko-kun staring back at them.

Then, a knowing smile (unlike the one she had given him in his office, he noted subconsciously) crossed her visage and she leaned down to say something into the brunette's ear. He looked back up at her, surprise evident in his expression, before nodding and running off.

Gaara flicked his eyes back toward the blonde youth at his side momentarily, watching as she frowned, bowed to him in more thanks than respect, and stalked off as indignantly as she could manage. When he looked back toward the street, the pink haired female was nowhere in sight. Frowning, he began to lean back onto the table until he felt a soft tap on his other shoulder. Fully expecting the girl to have returned, and slightly irritated by such notion after her evident display of disdain for Sakura, Gaara turned his gaze only to find a maroon clothed torso in his line of vision.

Visibly surprised, his gaze flickered up to find a smiling Sakura standing before him, her gloved hand extended down to him. "Care to dance?" She offered laughingly after a moment of silence passed.

When he didn't respond after another moment, she sighed and reached to grab a hold of his wrist, pulling him gently out of his seat, "Now, come on, you can't expect me to let you sit there all night like your puppy died, can you?"

He surprised himself by allowing her to pull him until she had found an opening in the mass of people dancing in the street, where she turned to him and guided one of his hands, probably figuring he wouldn't have done so himself, to her waist. When Sakura reached her own hand to settle on his shoulder and clasped his other hand with hers, he could only watch with widened eyes, his body stiff and not responding to his internal demands that it move,_ now_.

Finally, with a barely concealed laugh, she knocked into him with her hip, a motion which finally caused him to move as they began gently swaying to the music. He wasn't sure for how long they danced, but when the band stopped to take a break, it took him a moment to notice before he stopped moving and released her hand. His noticeable hesitation in doing so was entirely unintended but it gained him that odd sort of smile for the second time that day just the same.

When the band started to play sometime later, Sakura made it seem like the most natural thing in the world that she sought him out again and offered her hand to him once more.

Spending such times of celebration with his siblings was something to which he had gradually grown accustomed, familiar even, but this was something entirely different and the Kazekage wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Sakura distracted him by giggling and pointing discreetly to their left. Following her signal, he turned to find the brunette boy she had been dancing with earlier offering a flower to that shy honey eyed girl before he took her hand and they began dancing clumsily, the picture of youthful bliss.

Looking back down at the smiling face of the outgoing Konoha kunoichi, Gaara decided that perhaps this was a change that he, for once, could get used to quite easily. A rebellious, sinful corner of his mind whispered that he'd enjoy the next days of this holiday more than he had originally figured.


	2. Day 2: Family

_Summary:_ A collection of drabbles written for GaaSaku Month, a prompt for every day of the month.

_Day: _2

_Prompt: _Family

_Phrase: …when she glanced around the dinner table at her fellow shinobi and friends, whom she had come to so fondly regard as family, she couldn't help but feel as if something was missing, that was, until the genin ran in and announced the arrival of the Sand Siblings…_

_Genre:_ Friendship/Romance

_Length: _974 words

_Rating: _K

31 Ways to Love

By: Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

It was long since the days when Sakura had permitted herself to sit, with expression blank, and sigh wistfully as she wished for things to be some way that they simply were not. It had been long since she had forced herself to grow up, to accept responsibility for her own life, to become both the kunoichi and the woman she prided herself to be now.

Despite this maturation, despite this metamorphosis and all that it stood for in her heart and life, Sakura found herself in a stance that would have been considered norm for her all those years ago – she found herself sitting with her elbow propped on the table, chin propped in her hand, sighing wistfully as her eyes wandered and she wished for something that wasn't there.

When she glanced around the dinner table at her fellow shinobi and friends, whom she had come to so fondly regard as family, she couldn't help but feel as if something was missing. Sure, they enjoyed the company of one another well enough – some more than others, she noted dryly as her eyes fell onto Kiba and Ino, obviously making eyes at each other from across the table. They got together as often as was possible, which, with the life of shinobi being what it is, was not often but still, they molded together seamlessly during the chances they were granted. Despite the warmth such comradery was successful in giving her, Sakura couldn't shake that feeling she got when she left the hospital without something key – like her gloves or wallet (which happened more often than she cared to admit).

Naruto had attempted to include her in the conversation on several occasions, in that typical, goofy kindhearted Naruto way of his, but had finally given up when he realized she was simply preoccupied. A few other similarly determined friends attempted the same thing – Lee exploded with his talk of youth and even Chouji had offered her small talk about the appetizer that remained untouched in front of her – while others simply cast her sympathetic looks – those were the wiser of the group, who understood just what was bothering her and that no amount of conversation would dissipate it.

She pondered this irritating feeling until a genin running into the restaurant and shouting something to Naruto shook her from her thoughts. It took her a moment, but the young shinobi's word registered finally and she didn't hesitate in standing from the table and all but running toward the door.

Ignoring, or simply not noticing, the mixture of curious and amused looks she received from her fellow Leaf nin, Sakura was only halted in her long strides when the front door of the establishment opened before her and she came colliding face first with the rather broad chest of a black-clad man.

Kankuro let out a whooshing laugh and held her gently by her forearms as they stood in the doorway, "Who knew you were so excited to see me?"

She leaned back to look up at him with a slightly sheepish grin, "Of course I am, Kitty Kank!"

His lips twitched at the jest, but wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders regardless when she slipped her own around his waist. Behind him, Temari complained, "Oi, it's cold out here, baka!"

Grumbling about the atrocities committed against him by the females in his life, Kankuro stepped around Sakura and continued toward the large table of Konoha shinobi, where four empty chairs awaited him. The blonde kunoichi stepped forward and embraced the smaller pinkette tightly, directly contrasting the feather light touches of her younger brother before her. "It's nice to see you, Temari," said pinkette wheezed, clenching her eyes closed as she weakly returned the hug.

Temari chuckled, returning the sentiments, before following the puppet master's path around her and toward the lunch table.

Behind her, finally, the reason for Sakura's haste stood silently with a blank expression on his smooth face. His formal blue and white robes had been replaced with his more travel-friendly maroon and brown set, so when he stepped toward her and the corner of his lip twitched, he hardly looked as aged as the last time she had seen him in Suna. Gaara looked every bit as youthful as she thought he ought to and such was the last rational thought to cross her mind before he reached toward her, grasping the fabric of her shirt before he pulled her into his arms.

His embrace was gentle, but not patronizing like Kankuro's, but firm and secure, but not borderline painful like Temari's, and Sakura couldn't help but feel the warmest she had in months.

She turned her face against his shoulder, nose nuzzled in the warm juncture between his neck and shoulder, as she slid her arms around him and sighed contently at the familiarity of his body so close to hers. "I missed you," the pinkette mumbled into the maroon fabric.

His response came in the tightening of his arms around her waist as a sigh, an emission of frustration and a flood of relief, whispered warm breath across her neck. It told her all she needed to hear.

They stood like this, in the doorway of the small unnamed restaurant in Leaf, until a throat being cleared pulled them out of their reverie. Her face scorching with the heat of her blush and his slipped carefully back behind his diplomatic expressionless mask, the two approached the table and sat down in the last two remaining seats.

And when she sat there, surrounded by all of her childhood comrades and friends, at the side of one of the most powerful shinobi in the world and his siblings, Sakura couldn't battle the smile off of her face even if she had wanted to - she was finally with her_ family._


	3. Day 3: Haunted

_Summary:_ A collection of drabbles written for GaaSaku Month, a prompt for every day of the month.

_Day: _3

_Prompt: _Haunted

_Phrase: "…and it was nights like these, when she awoke in the middle of the night with a mixture of sweat and tears coating her face, she thought of him and how he could have possibly lived so many years being so haunted…"_

_Genre:_ Angst/Romance

_Length: _419 words

_Rating: _K+

**Note:** I'm so sorry I've gotten so behind! I'll try not to spam you guys, so I'll limit updates to three times a day while I catch up.

31 Ways to Love

By: Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Hate is a strong word.

Sakura understood the terrors such a thing could wreak upon people and their lives. She had seen it too many times in her short, but long for shinobi, lifetime.

She rarely used it because of that.

But right now, she felt fully justified in thinking that she absolutely_ hated_ Naruto. Not that she hated Naruto himself, she loved him like the goofy Hokage he finally had become, it was the times Naruto sent him on these beyond S-ranked missions that she hated. She hated these _missions_. She hated when he _accepted_ these missions.

She hated herself when he was on these missions.

When Gaara had agreed to step down from his position as Kazekage after the Akatsuki raid on Suna, a heartbreaking decision that in the end had come down to his desire to protect his village over everything, Naruto had invited him to stay in Konoha. The conditions of such were simple: Naruto could feel that the risk his presence imposed on the village was justified if Gaara took the missions that no ordinary shinobi of the Leaf, or any of the Hidden villages for that matter, would take.

Sakura knew the type. It was the type of mission when the chances of survival were basically negative. Suicide missions, for ordinary shinobi.

But he was no ordinary shinobi.

Sakura knew of his agreement with Naruto. When she had first become involved with him, they spoke of them often.

But things between them escalated quickly.

Before Sakura knew it, he had taken permanent residence in her bed, and suddenly they had stopped speaking of them. It was some sort of unspoken agreement that they only need mentioning when a new one arose.

And this was the fifth one he had taken in the past year.

Tonight was the third night of his absence. She hadn't spoken to him in the days before he left, afraid her hurt and anger would break loose of her control and cause a fight. She hadn't wanted to fight, silence had seemed like the better option, before he left for his mission. His _god damned_ mission.

She_ hated_ them.

Because it was nights like these, when she awoke in the middle of the night with a mixture of sweat and tears coating her face from the terrible of what could possibly be happening to him on his _mission_, that she thought of him and his past and how he could have possibly lived so many years being so haunted.


	4. Day 4: Alternate Universe

_Summary:_ A collection of drabbles written for GaaSaku Month, a prompt for every day of the month.

_Day: _4

_Prompt: _Alternate Universe

_Phrase: …he was exactly the type she had taught herself to avoid, the embodiment of everything she knew was bad for her…_

_Genre:_ General/Mystery

_Length:_ 796 words

_Rating: _K

I must really love the college setting...

31 Ways to Love

By: Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Sakura had always considered herself to be a smart girl. She had always been at the top of her class academically and had handled all of the obstacles of her personal life thus far with surprising calculation and reason despite her tendency to get emotional. She could compete with even the likes of Nara Shikamaru in shogi and match wits with even the likes of Hyuga Neji. Her medical skills were coming along at a rapid pace, and all of her professors knew that she would surpass them before she graduated from college next year.

All in all, she was a pretty smart girl and felt justified in priding herself in that.

So she felt no qualms about walking cross-campus from the library to her suite that night. Konoha had a reputation for being relatively safe, although not as safe as to warrant a petite pink-headed student to be completely alone outside at this hour of the night, but she felt confident just the same. The campus was relatively well-lit and it was a chilly March evening, no one would be around.

Lost in thoughts about the upcoming research project she had spent the better half of the night preparing for, Sakura didn't feel the withering gaze on her until the smell of cigarette smoke wafted into her nose. Her face crumpled with distaste and she halted her steps, head swiveling as she looked for the source of the offensive odor. When she found it, she resisted the urge to curse herself for not noticing him a few meters away, seated underneath a lamppost.

She knew him. He had spent the first week of the semester coming in ridiculously late to her sociology class. After that first week, he had stopped bothering to show up. The class went on smoothly without him and she had forgotten about her unpleasant looking classmate promptly.

That was the only time she had seen him since, but he was ridiculously conspicuous with that wild red mop of spikes and those even more wild green eyes. And here he was, at whatever ridiculous hour of the morning in the middle of the campus, gesturing her over to him.

He was exactly the type she had taught herself to avoid, the reckless, dangerous type, the embodiment of everything she knew was bad for her, and in that moment, despite her self-preservation and all of the calculated assertions she had made about him, she was complying. She was walking toward him.

He was smirking wickedly.

That probably should have been the tell-tale sign for her to turn and run and not look back. But she didn't. She stopped before him and stared down at him.

Wordlessly, he pulled something out of his sweatshirt pocket and held it up to her. It took her a moment to realize he was offering her a cigarette. The chemical makeup and medical repercussions of the vice swarming her thoughts, she took it from his hand and dropped her book filled bag to the side, carefully folding her legs under her as she sat next to him. She broke her eyes from his and stared at the small object in between her fingers.

It had no label and the formerly pristine paper was crinkled and abused. There was no telling what sorts of things it had gone through to appear that way. Sakura jumped when his frigid hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her hand to his mouth. He dipped his head forward and pressed the end of his cigarette to hers. She watched him closely.

She didn't smoke; she had never tried it based on solemn knowledge of its harmful effects and had steered clear of those who did because of full-fledged revulsion for the habit. But the way the cancerous stick was perched sinfully between his pale lips was an invitation, a challenge even, and Sakura was hard-pressed to decline when presented with a challenge.

She lifted it to her lips and inhaled steadily.

She heaved a cough immediately after and he chuckled at her expense, blowing his own smoke out through his nostrils. She realized then that he was watching her as closely as she had him.

The way he was smirking told her that he knew exactly what he was doing, what kind of girl she was and, despite that, what he had gotten her to do. He knew it and he was absolutely elated by it.

Taking another careful drag, delighted that it caused no ill effect beside a slightly dizzying lightheadedness, Sakura held his gaze and thought perhaps now was as good time a time as any to ask his name.

It was Gaara, he told her, and the rest of the night floated away like a tendril of cigarette smoke.


	5. Day 5: Date

_Summary:_ A collection of drabbles written for GaaSaku Month, a prompt for every day of the month.

_Day: _5

_Prompt: _Date

_Phrase: "…she had always pictured herself the type of girl that would love being shown off in public on the arm of some great shinobi, but as she walked through the restaurant district of Suna on the side of the young Kazekage, she wasn't sure those were the types of looks she had pictured getting… It was not to say she didn't appreciate the sentiment of being taken out by the quiet nin, though…"_

_Genre:_ Friendship/Romance

_Length: _742words

_Rating: _K

31 Ways to Love

By: Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

_Count to ten_, Sakura repeated her mantra, taking deep breaths and even closing her eyes for good measure. She counted her steps and focused on the wonderful, mouth-watering scents that the restaurant district of Suna offered.

She didn't know if she wanted to be swallowed up by the ground or punch it until such a chasm appeared.

As she pondered the pros and cons of both, a gentle pressure wrapped around her wrist and wrenched her from such thoughts. Emerald eyes opened and fell into the gaze of stoic jade ones as he cast a sideways glance down at her. A silent question echoed between kage and medic.

"I'm fine," she reassured hurriedly, ashamed that Gaara had caught her stealing her resolve. Her resolve shouldn't need stealing, damn it, she was a kunoichi and a damn tough one at that.

A few dozen pairs of disapproving eyes should have done nothing to change that and she would deny that they did until her very death.

He didn't seem convinced, but for some heaven sent reason decided not to press the issue as he redirected his gaze and released her wrist. He still seemed to be deciding just where they would be dining that evening and she let out a silent breath of relief as his penetrating eyes left her.

When he had quietly requested, although it sounded oddly like a command despite his low voice, her company for dinner that night she had been surprised. The entire thing had Temari's scent all over it, but Sakura was surprised nonetheless. Not as surprised as he had been when she accepted, though. His eyes had visibly widened before his usual blank expression fell back over his features. It was the most expressive she had seen him be thus far.

They had been getting along well enough during her stay in Suna and despite their interactions being nothing short of diplomatic and professional, Sakura felt pretty comfortable in the silence they shared whenever they were placed together. Gaara had an uncharacteristic calming aura about him for such a powerful, dangerous nin and it was something of which she had grown quite appreciative during her hectic days completing her assignment in his hospital. So, she had accepted his request – demand? – with little further contemplation, happy to break the monotony that had begun settling in her day-to-day.

She wasn't so sure that she would have accepted so readily had she known the looks she would be receiving, though. It seemed that the image of the Kazekage strolling casually down the street on the side of a female, a foreign female no less, was not a common sight in his village. Said Kazekage seemed blissfully unaware of the scandal he was causing. Sakura, on the other hand, would have been blind not to notice the looks his villagers unabashedly gave her and deaf to not hear the voices dropping to whispers as they walked by.

The elder individuals cast her looks that ranged from disapproval to outright disgust, while the particularly scathing glances were held exclusively by, specifically, females of younger generations.

She didn't know which was worse.

_Count to ten_, she chanted for the umpteenth time before self-consciousness won her over, her resolve shattering.

"Gaara," Sakura murmured quietly, her throat tight as she pulled on his robe and stopped walking. He stopped as well, turning toward her expectantly. "I – it's just that… look, maybe this wasn't such a good idea." She found words lamely, eyes darting pointedly around them.

For the first time, it seemed, the redhead noticed the piercing gazes and heard the whispers around them, if his expression slowly falling into a frown was any indication. "I really appreciate you…" she paused, suddenly unsure just what they were doing anyway, "Taking time out of your schedule for me, but-"

The Kazekage's frown abruptly twisted into an outright scowl as he held a hand up between them to stop her, "Sakura," his deep voice rumbled quietly, his words clearly intended for her ears only, "You mustn't concern yourself with those whose concern is not for you. It will only blind you from that which your thoughts should surround."

He then swiftly laced her arm through his and began walking before she could formulate a response. As he subtly pulled her down the street and into the threshold of a restaurant, the scandalized chatter faded from her conscious as she tried to figure out just when the young Kazekage had become so damn near sagely.


	6. Day 16: First Time

_Summary:_ A collection of drabbles written for GaaSaku Month, a prompt for every day of the month.

_Day: _16

_Prompt: _First Time

_Phrase: …shinobi were subject to many things throughout their lifetime, but this, however, was something he had always been sure would never happen to him- especially not to him…_

_Genre:_ Friendship/Romance

_Length: _1,493 words

_Rating: _T

_A/N:_ Okay, so it occurred to me today when I was trying to write the next prompt that I would never be able to write all of these chronologically and post them in a timely fashion (proof: my last update for this was nearly two months ago) so** I'll just be posting them as I write them from now on.** Additionally, I _really_ enjoyed writing this one, even though it started out as something completely different. /sheepish shrug/

31 Ways to Love

By: Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Routine had completely fallen out of his life once Sakura had fallen into it. No longer did he rise from bed at the same time every morning, go through the same process of bathing, dressing, and eating before setting out to his office, work the same hours until the same lunchtime, go home at the same hour to crawl back into bed at the same time. Laid out so simply, his life seemed so mundane, but he'd be a liar if he said he didn't find comfort in routine, in uniformity, in consistency, in the knowledge that he would wake up to a day just like the last dozen.

So the abrupt change and ensuing chaos – chaos by his standards, anyway – that occurred simultaneously with her haphazard stumbling and, somehow, burrowing into his life should not have been particularly shocking. And they weren't. Gaara had been forced to become an adaptable creature from an early age – as early as he could recall, anyway. He faced changes, even major ones, with remarkable nonchalance and efficiency. Adapting wasn't the issue the Kazekage faced.

_Enjoying_ the adaptation was undoubtedly what puzzled and troubled him most.

The first time she entered the village and he bowed slightly to her in greeting and she, instead of returning the gesture, bounded up to him on light feet and threw her arms around his neck, Gaara stumbled backwards from the force of the collision of the small, hurdling object that was Sakura. He regained his footing not a moment later. She had been travelling for days but had clearly stopped somewhere within the desert to bathe as a sheen of sweat on her skin was the only indication of her travels. Pulling away to stand at arm's length, Sakura had taken his unresponsive hands into hers and thanked him for fighting alongside Naruto in the war and being probably one of the only reasons the blonde knucklehead was still alive. Nodding something in between acknowledgement and understanding, the Kazekage then turned swiftly to face the small conglomerate of siblings and councilmen alike that had come to greet the visiting medical ninja with him. He deftly mumbled introductions and began the short trek through Suna back to his office where she would report in officially, seeing no need to relinquish his stiff hand from her grasp.

The first time she appeared at his office unannounced, standing uncertainly in his doorway with a box clutched in her small hands, Gaara had inquired if there was anything he could do for her that would warrant such a random visit. Shaking her head, she told him that his secretary informed her that he had yet to step out for lunch and, as it was an hour or two past his normal lunchtime, she had taken it upon herself to bring him a small meal. She asked him, rather indignantly, as she stepped closer to his desk, just _why_ he had planned to work through lunch and he thought to remind himself to ask his secretary just _why_ she thought disclosing information regarding his whereabouts to anyone that asked was a good idea. He ate the meal silently, praying to whatever deity looking upon him that his complaining stomach was audible to only him, while pointedly ignoring the moderately smug smirk directed at him from the woman perched on the arm of his office chair.

The first time she jabbed a gloved finger into his chest and brought her face level with his to more effectively shout at him, Gaara had simply seized her hand in his and lowered it between them, effectively silencing her if not only for a moment. Breathing heavily and flushed after just having run from the hospital to his residence and not yet fully accustomed to the heat of the desert, Sakura stared up at his calm, emotionless face with parted lips for a full moment before finally allowing the tenseness that had coiled in her body to dissipate. He found out only later that she had been enraged about some pompous shinobi of his that had been arrogant enough to make a rather crude pass at her, an action that, in her eyes, reflected somehow through the chain of command back at him. The man was sent on a long, tedious mission to the Tea Country in the day following and the matter was dropped.

The first time he awoke to a face full of pale pink hair and the distinct awareness that the flesh pressed against the front of his body was completely bare and utterly warm and soft, Gaara had flexed the fingers of his right hand in attempt to regain feeling in the arm said pale pink head of hair was sleeping on. Unsure of how to crawl out of bed without stirring her, he waited until she woke up before he got out of bed. If his secretary had been surprised to see the Kazekage arrive at his office an hour later than usual, she said nothing.

The first time he came home to a house laden with the aroma of freshly prepared dinner and a pinkette in a smeared apron cursing behind his stove, Gaara had thought it an efficient way to save time at night to get to bed earlier – what with his final meal of the day already prepared for him, something that never occurred prior to her arrival – and had politely thanked her for her consideration. He thought nothing of the odd, if not confused, look she shot at him before she smiled and nodded. Such a thing occurred multiple times a week, when she was not working a night or evening shift at the hospital.

The first time she stumbled into his office, with pale face and blood shot eyes, after her day shift and mumbled something about a patient and not being strong enough, Gaara had calmly set the paper he had been reading down as a tendril of sand nudged her around his desk to stand, shaking and hugging herself around her torso, beside his chair. Silently, he shifted to face her and wrapped her in his embrace, murmuring as softly as he could manage that it was alright to cry, that he was here and he would listen. No more paperwork left the Kazekage's office completed that evening, but rising an hour earlier than normal the next morning to make up for it wasn't too difficult a task.

The first time he awoke to a cold bed when he knew that a stretch of bare, warm, soft flesh should have been flush against the front of his body in the place that was now empty in his bed, Gaara sat up and, ignoring his nakedness, walked to the bathroom adjoining his room. There he found her clad in just a towel, carefully brushing saturated pink locks in front of his mirror. She turned toward him and set the brush down as he crossed the distance between them in two strides. While he ignored the droplets of water transferring from her face to his as she kissed him, upon feeling the dampness of her towel as his arm snaked around her waist he yanked the cloth away swiftly and pushed her backwards towards the shower. She didn't complain about bathing twice in one morning and he, yet again, was late to work.

The first time the scroll he was scanning over in bed was tugged from his grasp, Gaara had been mildly irritated. Lifting kohl outlined eyes to focus on the form of his frowning pinkette standing over him, the Kazekage, tone clipped, had slowly inquired as to _why_ the paperwork he had been reading was now in her rather disdainful grasp. Wordlessly, she placed the papers neatly on his bedside table and crawled across his blankets to kneel next to him, meeting his irritated gaze as she told him in no uncertain terms that beds were for _sleeping_ not _working_ and he'd damn near work himself into his grave if he continued his habits. Sighing inaudibly, he began formulating a way he could finish the following day when she huffed and shoved him backwards into the pillows, burrowing against his side and bidding him a defiant _good night_.

The first time she pulled her lips away from his, shifting in his lap and guiding his hand to rest against a spot on her chest from which he could distinctly feel a _thu-thump, thu-thump,_ vibration, and whispered those words, Gaara's mouth had gone dry and his eyes widened to an impossible degree. It took a moment of shocked staring before he could formulate the reply he knew to be irrevocably true the second he heard, although distantly, his voice say it, "I love you too, Sakura."

When she smiled that dazzlingly, deliriously happy smile and crashed her mouth down against his, he knew, for the first time, that he never, ever wanted to live a life of routine for the rest of his existence.


	7. Day 12: Bonds

_Summary:_ A collection of drabbles written for GaaSaku Month, a prompt for every day of the month.

_Day: _12

_Prompt: _Bonds

_Phrase: "…he was relatively new to the whole idea, but he knew she had been forming connections for her entire life, so he decided to take his inquiries to the strange, volatile pink-haired medic…"_

_Genre:_ Romance/General

_Length: _747 words

_Rating: _K+

_A/N:_ This was written as a thank you for 100 followers on the blog on Tumblr, but I thought it fit this prompt and was a nice length for a drabble :)

31 Ways to Love

By: Socially Suicidal

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

The young shinobi, far too sagely and exhausted for his age, nearly sighed in relief as he closed the door behind him. Resisting the urge to sag against the sturdy structure and just _breathe_ for a moment, Gaara followed the waning smell of dinner into the kitchen. On the counter he found a covered plate with a note next to it.

Discarding his formal hat, or head umbrella as it had become so tenderly known within his household, the redhead sat down and began leisurely digging into his now cold dinner. Thinking offhandedly about why he was always so eager to return home, because of things like the meals that usually awaited him and incessantly pestering councilmen whom he had no idea why he tolerated, it was only as he read the note did he pick up the pace of his eating.

_You didn't tell me you had a late night tonight, I had been looking forward to having you to myself. Finish all your vegetables and get your esteemed ass into bed, my Lord._

Note clutched in one hand, the now smirking kage discarded his empty plate into the sink before promptly making his way up to his bedroom.

_**Our**__ bedroom_, some part of his mind felt obliged to correct, but the weary shinobi hardly paid mind as he carefully pushed the door open and crept into the scarcely lit room, making not a sound to disrupt his sleeping lover. Pausing at the end of the bed for only a moment, studying the cropped pink hair splayed messily over his deep red pillow case and the pouted lips of the girl to whom such hair belonged, Gaara realized that perhaps it wasn't the impending dinner that gave him such anxiety to come home at night, realized that perhaps it was the sights like _this _that often greeted him that had him returning home at night with renewed vigor and energy he often lacked.

Blinking to rid himself of such musings, blaming the sentimentality on his sleepy condition, he strode silently to his desk, pulling the white robes from his body and hanging them over his chair. Next to come off were his shoes, which, in his progressively tiring state as the soft breathing of the creature in his bed lulled him, he carelessly kicked off. The soft thud resulting was minor, but enough to awake the slumbering kunoichi.

"You're later than normal," Sakura grumbled, voice slightly muffled as she buried her face further into the pillow as if resisting full cognizance. If he had been an intruder, she didn't so much as look to see him. He wasn't sure if the thought made him want to smile at her confidence that it was he who would be returning to their bedroom at night or yell at her for not being more careful. He settled for neither as he set the last remaining articles on the chair and approached the side of the bed, clad in only his short black undergarments.

"Unforeseeable progressions," his mouth replied automatically as he slipped under the covers next to her. Gaara could just make out the slight quirk of her pale pink lips as she rolled to face him.

"You always say that," he wondered why, if he always said that, she felt the need to point it out before her searching fingers slid over his arms and she gently encouraged him towards her, "You shouldn't let those old grannies argue into the night," the pinkette mumbled, sleep not leaving her voice.

Ever obliging, the Kazekage reached to slip his arm around her and pull her closer into his embrace, resting his forehead against hers. "They're incessant," the sigh accompanying his words blew her sleep mused bangs slightly about her forehead, "I would have left earlier had I been able."

His warm breath seemed enough to encourage her eyes closed once more and, under his steady sea foam gaze, Sakura tilted her head to nuzzle her nose into his cheek, "I know, I know," she sighed, sleep evidently overtaking her once more. "You're going to work yourself to death."

Gaara tightened the arm wound about her waist, using the other to nestle into her pink hair and cup the back of her head to pull it to rest under his chin. Knowing that sleep had obviously claimed her, he closed his own eyes, content with joining her sooner rather than later.

"Not when I have something like this to live for."


End file.
